Second to None
by Coca-Cola3012
Summary: Sequel to Darry Goes to College...they're all back for a year that's sure to be second to none...or is it? Things are never what they seem. Chapter Five redone.
1. Chapter 1

**Second to None**

Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the U of C. If I did I wouldn't be writing this.

Chapter One: Summer's End

"Wake up!" Darry roared in Soda's ear. Soda yelped and promptly fell off the bed. He sat up and glared at his older brother.

"Glory, Darry, where's the fire?" he demanded. "What gives, waking me up at…" He glanced around for a clock. Not finding one, he settled for: "Waking me up before dawn?"

"College starts again today!" Darry exclaimed gleefully. "C'mon, let's get to the station or I'll miss my train," he said, already tramping out.

_Good,_ Soda thought selfishly. The summer was at an end, and now he would be the only Curtis brother left for a while. Darry was off to his second year of college, and Ponyboy was on a book tour for the second time that year.

_Jeez!_ Soda had thought when he had heard the news from Ponyboy. _How can the kid write so much so fast? _

Once Darry left, he would be alone again. He didn't want his brother to leave. Not until Ponyboy came back, anyway. Even then, he wanted them both to stay.

But he knew he couldn't do that to them. So he kept his mouth shut and put a winning smile on instead.

_Soda, you shoulda been an actor,_ Soda told himself as he joined Darry for a hurried breakfast. _You always been told you got the look, and you're halfway decent at acting. Even better when it comes to lying to your brothers._

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"Got your suitcase?" Soda hollered to Darry over the shrill train whistle.

"Yeah!" Darry bellowed back. "I'll see you Thanksgiving!"

"Don't forget to write home!" Soda reminded him. He put on a good charade, but Darry could see right through it. You couldn't spend twenty-five years with a guy and not know everything about him, especially if he was your brother. Poor Soda could never stand to be by himself. Darry hoped Ponyboy would be home soon and cheer him up.

Just before he got on board, he glanced back one last time to wave to Soda, a forlorn, helpless looking loner on the platform, staring at his shoes with the corners of his mouth turned slightly down.

On an impulse, Darry flung his suitcase in the compartment to save his spot (he thought he heard a muffled "Ow!" but it could have just been his imagination) and leapt off the train, which was slowly chugging out of the station already.

"What the—" Soda gasped as Darry pulled him into a one-armed, rib-cracking hug. Soda hugged him back briefly before shouting, "You're gonna miss your train! Unless you've been hiding the fact that you can fly, Superman!"

Darry laughed and affectionately ruffled his brother's hair one last time before bounding off, managing to disappear inside just before the train pulled out for good.

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Soda heaved a tremendous sigh as the train disappeared from sight. He was the last person on the platform.

_I sure am gonna miss you, Darry,_ he thought regretfully.

He tried to focus on something else. Was he supposed to be at work yet? He and Steve were now co-owners/managers of the DX station. They were the best mechanics around. People came from as far as the West side of town just to get their car repaired at the DX.

He glanced at his watch and got a huge shock. _Glory, I'm late for work! Steve's gonna kill me!_

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"Mom?" A.J. descended the steps into the kitchen, where she could already smell the makings of a true Indian breakfast, at least at their house: crispy _khakra,_ potent ginger tea and random spices whose names she had no idea though her mother attempted to stuff them into her brain every summer in the hopes that she could one day cook like a true Indian wife.

"Yes, Anjali?" her mother responded in her thick accent, refusing to use A.J.'s preferred nickname. She turned to face her daughter and her expression changed several times before she settled on a poker face. "That is how you are going to college? This would never settle in India! They would kick you out straightaway, coming so dirtily dressed!"

"Mom, it's okay. This is how everybody dresses," A.J. insisted, cringing at the memory of last year. Her mother had forced her into a frilly "frock," as she called them. A.J. had managed to sneak her choice of clothing into her backpack and had changed on the train. She glanced at her watch.

"Ma, I'm going now. I'll see you at Thanksgiving, okay?"

"Wait up, yaar," her mother insisted. "Say goodbye to Daddy, too."

For some reason, A.J.'s parents called each other "Mummy" and "Daddy." They were more like best friends than a married couple.

The said father tromped in just then, in an incredibly bad mood. _"Mere joothe kahaan hai?"_ he demanded in Hindi. "Where are my shoes?"

"In the closet, Daddy," A.J. responded. "I have to go now, though, or I'll miss my train."

"Wait for your breakfast," her mother said with a pained expression on her face. "The train won't leave without you."

"Mom!" A.J. exclaimed, scandalized for some reason. "People here don't run off IST! They don't wait for one girl!"

"IST?" her dad echoed.

"Indian Standard Time," A.J. confirmed. "You know, late? And that's one thing I can't be," she concluded. She grabbed a few _khakra,_ bounding out the door and yelling, "I'll call when I get there!"

She could've sworn she heard her father complain to her mother, "They grow up so fast," but didn't stop running, suitcase banging against her legs as she sprinted to the station that was within walking distance but still pretty far, about a mile down the road.

A.J. caught the train just in time, throwing her ticket at the poor man standing there and leaping on just as it pulled out.

Catching her breath, she flopped into a seat and shut her eyes, relieved that she had made it time.

"Hey, stranger," said a voice that could have been daring or mocking her, depending on how it was interpreted. It was a voice that made A.J.'s eyes fly open and twist in her seat to look to make sure it really was who she thought it was, make sure that she hadn't dreamed it.

She wasn't dreaming. She hadn't seen him all summer, and here he was now, tan and grinning like mad. The entire compartment stared at her as she screamed his name:

"LUCKY!"

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Should I continue or delete it?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: What Kind of Karma?

A.J. leapt up instinctively, but restrained herself from throwing her arms around him, crossing them and waiting before people had lost interest before demanding in a softer tone, "Why didn't you call? Or write? Or somehow make your existence known?"

Lucky scratched the back of his head apologetically. "My old man," he muttered. "It was like living in a cage all summer. I tried calling you. Your mom or somebody answered, and I was just about to ask for you but then the old man came in and freaked. He, like, totally lost it. Accused me of trying to set up another scandal to ruin _his_ perfect image," Lucky laughed dryly.

"I tried calling you too," A.J. said, sitting down and scooting over on the seat to leave room for Lucky. "Your mom answered, but she told me you were out…all three times. I tried writing you then, but I guess your dad's been intercepting the mail."

"No, I got your letters," Lucky reassured her, flopping down on the seat next to her. "But the old man's been cutting off all the ones I been sending out—to you, Darry, Oak, even Juice, this one guy I was in jail with. He's an all right guy, just got mixed up with the wrong crew. Like me."

A.J. didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. She realized, absurdly, that she was still holding the _khakra_ she had grabbed, none of it eaten. She held it out to Lucky. _"Khakra?"_ she offered sheepishly.

Lucky smiled and accepted it.

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When Soda returned home that evening, several things happened at once. He opened the door, and something with shaggy reddish-brown hair flew at him, yelling his name, and tackled him to the ground. The groceries went flying and Soda got the wind knocked out of him just as he realized who the supposed attacker was.

"Ponyboy!" he shouted joyfully. "You're back!"

"Please," Ponyboy scoffed. "You can't get rid of me that easy." He got off his older brother and, brushing himself off, offered Soda a hand up.

Soda accepted the hand and stood upright, staring at the ruined groceries. "Well," he commented. "There goes _that."_

Ponyboy laughed. "Shall we go out for more?"

"Well, we ain't eating the dirt off the porch, if that's what you mean."

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"So, how's Tanuja's comedy thing going?" Ponyboy inquired about Soda's girlfriend in the car, just as they were pulling up at the store.

"I wouldn't know," Soda replied heavily.

"Why not? She's your girlfriend, isn't she?" Ponyboy said, parking in the nearest empty space.

"We broke up. She said it wouldn't work out, with her traveling all over the place."

"Glory, I'm sorry to hear that," Ponyboy said sincerely.

"It's okay," Soda sighed. "There was only one girl meant for me, and she didn't love me." With that, he quickly stepped out of the car and into the grocery store, where it always smelled like moldy bread no matter which section you were in.

Ponyboy smacked himself mentally as he followed Soda in. He always seemed to contract chronic foot-in-mouth disease at exactly the wrong moments.

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Darry, meanwhile, seemed to have chronic bad luck when it came to compartments on trains. Last year had brought rowdy, applesauce wielding children, but this year brought much worse.

_Only I could have the kind of karma that puts you next to Mr. Juggles on a train,_ Darry thought gloomily as the clown inadvertently popped yet another balloon animal in his attempt to make a giraffe.

"Dude, just give it up!" Darry shouted in frustration after the fifth gunshot bang in his ear as the balloon popped.

The clown stared at him. "What is this 'dude' that you speak of?" he inquired.

Darry groaned inwardly. As if that wasn't bad enough, the next two passengers found their seats…

_IS THERE NO ESCAPE?_ Darry's brain screamed as the teacher he had finally gotten over sat down across from him, her husband at her side. Darry tried to force a smile as he thought, _WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY DOING IN OKLAHOMA?_

"Why, hello, Darrell," she beamed. "How have you been?"

"Fine, thank you. And yourself?" asked Darry, ever the polite one.

"Better than ever," Ms. Hart, now Mrs. Jackson, exclaimed happily. "We're having a baby!"

This news seemed to shock her husband, David, just as much as it did Darry.

"You are?" Darry said, genuinely pleased for her. The sight of her husband may have annoyed him, but more because he had been Lucky's prosecutor. He was finally free of that accursed infatuation with the former Ms. Hart.

"We are?" David cried in horror. Ms. Hart (Darry couldn't think of her by any other name) frowned up at him, and he cleared his throat hurriedly. "I mean, uh, I was not aware of this, dear."

"But darling, I just told you last night, just after I got back from the doctor's."

"I don't recall you telling me."

"I told you just after I got back, don't you remember?"

Darry sighed and jumped as yet another gunshot bang exploded in his ear and the married couple continued to bicker as the clown cursed.

_Why me?_ Was all he could think as the train sped on towards its destination, Chicago.

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: A Series of Strange Events

By the time they pulled into the station on the South side of Chicago, A.J. was staring outside with her head resting on the window and Lucky was drowsing on her shoulder, snoring lightly.

He jerked awake as the train screeched to a stop. "Wha'appened?" he mumbled.

"We're here," A.J. said. "C'mon, let's go."

She led a lethargic Lucky out of the station and hailed a cab. She bit back a gasp and a laugh when she saw whom the cabbie was. She prayed fervently that he wouldn't remember her, though she remembered him very well. It would be a long time before she forgot any detail about the day she had last been in his cab, the day Oak and Darry flung him out and zoomed to the courthouse just in time for Lucky's verdict.

Lucky, of course, had no idea of this entire episode. He sat down in the back seat, scooting over to make room for A.J., and said, "University of Chicago."

Frantically swinging her bangs over her face, A.J. ducked into the cab. If the driver did recognize her, it would not be a pretty scene.

They drove smoothly to the U of C without conflict. A.J. sighed inwardly with relief and dared to brush her hair out of her face. It was kind of difficult to see with it there.

As she and Lucky split the cab fare, the cabbie squinted hard at A.J. "Do I know you?" he asked suspiciously.

"No!" A.J. yelped. Panicking, she threw her half of the fare, three dollars, at the cabbie, grabbed her suitcase and darted inside.

Lucky caught up with her a few seconds later. "Whoa, A.J., what was that all about?"

A.J. stopped to catch her breath, not exactly being a track star, and launched into an explanation of that whole episode.

She held her breath when she was done, hoping that the mention of his court verdict wouldn't set him off, but she was flabbergasted when he instead tossed his head back and laughed, long and loud.

"What?" she demanded indignantly, which only made him laugh harder. "It's not that funny!"

"You have no idea, A.J.," Lucky chortled. "You have no idea. That's the first good laugh I've had all summer."

A.J. had been fuming silently, but her anger dissolved at those words, at the true meaning behind them. Lucky was right. She really did have no idea.

Lucky casually draped his arm around her shoulders. "So, where to now, Madame Anjali?" he teased.

"Registration," A.J. said firmly. "And then…I'll figure it out later."

Lucky groaned and pulled his customary shades from his pocket. "Spare me," he groaned. "What's even the point? Just sign me up for whatever you're taking. I can copy off you all year," he laughed.

"As if," A.J. scoffed, but she was grinning. Lucky was back.

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It was the end of the day. Darry didn't think he had been so drained in his entire life, including those nights when he had worked two double shifts just to make ends meet.

It was all thanks to Ms. Hart and David. And Mr. Juggles. Between those three, Darry never wanted to set foot on a train again.

And then Ms. Hart and David shared a cab with him to the U of C. Darry wanted to jump out, even when the cabbie slammed on the accelerator and they weaved in and out of traffic at eighty miles per hour.

_Is he related to Speed?_ Darry found himself wondering. _Or is he just on it?_

When they finally reached the U of C, Darry threw his share of the fare at the cabbie, grabbed his bags and bolted.

_Thank God,_ he thought. _Free! Free at last!_

Between rejoicing and running for his life, Darry wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. So it wasn't much of a surprise when he turned a corner on his way to registration and smashed into none other than the local escaped convict, as he was known by now. Darry, for one, didn't like to think of him that way.

"Lucky! What's cracking, man?"

Lucky gave him a weird look. "You've cracked, man," he responded. "What gives, charging through here like the world's on fire?"

"It's Ms. Hart and her husband. They were on the train, and they started arguing, and then they followed me here and they're still arguing!"

Lucky grinned. "She doesn't get along too good with her husband, eh?" he said, grinning devilishly and waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Before Darry could respond, Lucky laughed and clapped him amicably on the back. "Just kidding, dude. I know, I know, you're so over her."

"Right," Darry said, a bit irked nonetheless. "Where'd A.J. go?"

"She's right over—damn, where'd she go?" Lucky said, turning and not seeing the short Indian girl anywhere.

"I'm here," A.J. said from behind Darry. Darry turned to see A.J. with Pepsi and Skate in tow.

"What's up?" Skate greeted, swinging his hair, which he had grown out to shoulder length, out of his face.

"Check it out," Pepsi said eagerly, thrusting a glass of dark, bubbling liquid under Darry' nose. "What does it look like?"

"Uh, Pepsi?" Darry guessed.

"Wrong!" Pepsi declared gleefully, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. "It's my special new formula, cherry flavored Pepsi! Isn't it great? Try some!"

Reluctant but not wanting to let the spirited boy down, Darry took a hesitant sip. "Not bad," he said after a while. "But Pepsi's Pepsi, Pepsi. Sorry, I don't think people'll buy it."

Pepsi's face fell faster than a ruined soufflé. "Oh well," he said sadly. "I should've known. Nothing can ever replace the original Pepsi."

As he shuffled away sadly, a blonde-haired, baby blue-eyed girl slouched up. Darry's jaw dropped, as did Lucky's. A.J. stifled a laugh behind her hand. No. It couldn't be. "Mini?" he exclaimed.

Gone were the miniskirts and short tops, replaced by a pair of baggy, flower-print bell-bottoms and an extra-large paisley shirt. Mini's hair was down to her waist, scraggly and, from the looks of it, unwashed for a long time. Possibly all summer. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of lens-less pink glasses with plastic daisies glued to the sides. She wore absolutely no makeup, and her face was shiny and covered with acne.

"My name is no longer Mini," she replied solemnly. "Call me by my given name, Minerva, or else call me Sunshine. It is the name Xavier gave me."

"Xavier?" Lucky echoed.

"Her boyfriend," Skate explained. "Mini—Minerva, sorry—spent the summer at a hippie hangout."

"I was on a road trip with Jay and his friends and a few of mine," Minerva explained. "We broke down and the hippies helped us out. I started talking to this really cute one, Xavier, and he showed me the way. I wanted to be with him forever and ever, but Jay had to take me back on his way home. I still write him religiously. Xavier, not Jay."

A.J. was shaking with silent laughter behind Lucky. Darry tried to hide his disgust at her lack of hygiene. He disliked hippies in general because they were generally unclean, not because of anything else. If they wanted to get stoned out of their minds, that was their prerogative. Darry had certain idiosyncrasies about everything having to be clean.

"Okay, then, Minerva," Lucky said. "I'll see you later."

"Okay," she smiled, and walked away.

Darry tried to recover quickly. It was amazing how one summer could change people so drastically.

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"Try to keep the room clean this year, okay?" Darry implored Lucky. "I don't know how you could stand your own side of the room last year."

"I don't know how I stood _you_ last year," Lucky shot back. "Mr. Clean."

"Watch it," Darry growled. "I may be old, but I can still take you down."

"Oh yeah, tough guy?" Lucky taunted. "I'd like to see you try."

Darry just laughed and turned his back to Lucky to start unpacking. Big mistake. Lucky flung his pillow at Darry, hitting him on the back of his head. Feathers flew everywhere, the cheap pillow having burst.

Darry turned around and smacked Lucky with his own pillow. Lucky unlocked his suitcase and threw three consecutive t-shirts at Darry.

Darry reached for his own suitcase and flung a pair of jeans at Lucky.

That was how A.J. found them when she wandered in with the intention to give Lucky his class schedule, which she had taken the liberty of filling out.

"Lucky, here's your—_WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS DOING?"_

Lucky grinned sheepishly at A.J., a sock hanging from his ear. "Uh, unpacking?" he tried, grinning wildly.

A.J. rolled her eyes and stalked out. "Boys," Darry could have sworn he heard her mutter before she slammed the door behind her.

"She's right," Darry said. "We should get to sleep. It's…" he glanced at hi watch. "Man! It's already past midnight! We have to wake up early tomorrow!"

"Not me," Lucky yawned. Darry's eyes fell to the schedule A.J. had left. "Oh yeah?" he challenged. "Then why do you have Physics at eight am?"

"What?" Lucky shouted, leaping up and snatching the schedule from Darry's grip. "Is she trying to kill me or something, Physics with the psycho every morning?"

Darry shrugged. "Beats me," he said. "Now come on. We have to wake up early."

Lucky groaned and flopped on his bed, cursing A.J. about his schedule.

Darry regarded the mess. _I'll clean it up in the morning,_ he decided. He buried himself under the covers and fell asleep almost immediately, the day's events having been more than enough for him. He wished Soda were here to give him one of those great backrubs.

_Too bad about that,_ he thought drowsily. _I wonder how Pepsi-Cola's doing anyway._

With that thought, he succumbed to slumber. At least, until three am, when he and most of the others residents of the dorms around them were awakened by Lucky waking up screaming from a nightmare.

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Shining Eyes

"No…don't…can't…" Lucky was shivering so hard that he was in danger of falling out of bed, and his eyes pierced the ceiling with a stare so intense it burned.

"Lucky! _Lucky!_ Someone get a doctor!" Darry yelled. He turned and saw a gaggle of pajama-ed, bug-eyed boys goggling at Lucky. _"WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE FOR?"_ Darry bellowed, causing them to jump. _"GET A BLOODY DOCTOR OR YOU'LL NEED ONE, COURTESY OF ME!"_

The boys had scattered before he had finished his sentence, terrified at the sight of the enraged former football player. Satisfied with his effect on them, Darry turned worriedly back to Lucky.

"Lucky? Look at me. Breathe in. That's right. Breathe out. In. Out. Relax. You're okay. I'm here now. You're gonna be okay. It's all gonna be all right." Darry kept on talking in the same soothing tone he had used for Ponyboy all those years ago. It was like riding a bicycle; it came back so naturally.

The nurse burst in just as Lucky had calmed down enough to sit up in bed. She had perfect timing. As soon as Lucky sat up, he gagged and heaved his dinner just as the white-clad woman ducked under Darry's arm and swung a bedpan in the right place.

"You have perfect timing," Darry told the nurse, a black medical student.

"Thank you," she replied. "Move."

Darry did as he was told and the nurse continued to hold the pan under Lucky and speak to him soothingly.

When Lucky was asleep again, she turned to leave, but Darry stopped her. "What if this happens again?" he asked.

"Look, I'm not a psychologist. You're going to have to consult a real doctor."

"Well, whaddya call yourself?" Darry demanded, getting fed up.

"An intern trying to support herself through med school. Now if you'll excuse me, I was sleeping."

Darry couldn't think of anything intelligent to say as the intern pushed her way out. Instead, he just slammed the door behind her and went back to bed, praying that Lucky would be all right.

_Probably like Ponyboy,_ Darry thought. _He'll be okay._

At least, he hoped so.

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"But you're okay now, right?" A.J. peered at Lucky over breakfast the next morning.

"_Yes,"_ he said vehemently. "I'm fine." He took a sip of and grimaced at the cafeteria's terrible coffee. It tasted burnt and like fried plastic. "Ylaagh," he groaned, pushing the cup away.

Without averting her gaze, A.J. pushed her plastic cup of tea across the table. Lucky didn't touch it. He didn't look at her as he said, "It was like being in jail again. Like the first night. I didn't know where I was, didn't know what was gonna happen to me. Nothing was right; it was like, everything was weird and hard and so unfamiliar."

"Bad trip?" a voice said from behind him. He jumped and looked around, seeing Mini—Minerva—standing directly behind him, wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

"No," he said slowly. "Bad dream." He was surprised she didn't know. The news had spread like wildfire. But, then again, who ever talked to hippies except other hippies?

"Oh. I am sorry to hear that. If you need a remedy, I have amphetamines and joints. We can smoke some together," she suggested, smiling.

"It's okay," Lucky said gently. "I don't really do drugs."

Minerva shrugged. "Fight the power," she advised as she walked away.

He dared to look up at her. It hurt her to hear this, he knew. But he had to talk about it to someone, and A.J. was the only one who understood. Minerva had used to listen to him ramble, back when she was still Mini, but it had all went in one ear and out the other.

_Flashback:_

"_I tried calling my old man last night," Lucky mentioned nonchalantly, blowing a cigarette ring in Mini's direction._

"_That's nice," she said absently. For a minute Lucky didn't think she had even been listening, until she asked, "What did he say?"_

"_Nothing," Lucky said. "He wouldn't even talk to me. Still ticked that I failed again."_

"_Oh," Mini said. She paused to examine her nails, and then turned to him with those eyes locked on him, big and bright as the sky. Lucky lowered his shades to get a better look at them. Someone had told him once that looking into someone's eyes was like looking into their soul. He forgot who it was. Probably Pepsi or A.J. or somebody smart. _

"_Wanna make out?" she asked, and her eyes were shining. Lucky could see himself in them. Shining, but that was all they were. All shine and no substance._

"A.J.?" he ventured.

"Yes?" she said. "What is it?" Lucky could see himself in her eyes too, but it wasn't all he could see.

"Thanks for listening."

"You know I'll always listen."

"One more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for not having shiny eyes." He got up abruptly and walked away, leaving a very confused A.J.

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"Where's he going?" Darry asked from behind A.J. as Lucky trudged away.

"I'm not sure," A.J. replied without looking at Darry, "but I'm worried about him."

"Ponyboy used to have nightmares. He's fine. Lucky will be fine too. The nurse suggested a psychologist for his nightmares, but I don't think he needs it."

"I do," A.J. said. "He's definitely acting psycho."

"Give him a break. He's had a rough time. He'll be okay."

_I hope so,_ A.J. found herself thinking. _I really hope so._

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Thinking of You

"Joining us once more, Mr. Stanton?" Professor Chaplin sneered at Lucky.

"Yes, sir," Lucky flashed him a grin, "I'll be here for the rest of my days."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Chaplin made no effort to lower his voice. "I don't suppose you've done your homework?"

"Actually, sir, I have," Lucky said, pulling it from his backpack and holding it out to the professor, who took it unenthusiastically.

"Yes, well, I don't suppose…hmmm…" Professor Chaplin flipped through the work, then squinted suspiciously at Lucky. "I don't suppose this is your own work?"

"It is, sir," Lucky said. And it was, too. He had slaved over it for a full hour, making sure it was perfect, right down to the punctuation.

"I doubt it," Professor Chaplin said to Lucky's horror. He knew that his professor's doubt stemmed from the fact that this was now the fourth time Lucky had been held back, but still. He really had done it for himself.

When he said so, however, the professor leered down at him. "I think you're lying, Mr. Stanton," he said wickedly.

Lucky panicked. "No, professor, I'm not! I really did do it for myself! Ask anyone!"

"I don't have to ask anyone, Mr. Stanton," the professor said. "This is obviously plagiarized work, coming from you. This is a zero. Be glad that I don't send you to the dean's."

"But professor, I really did do it!" Lucky protested, standing up.

"Enough!" Chaplin roared.

"But he really did do it, sir," a voice from the back said. Lucky looked around and was shocked to see Minerva sitting at the very back with another hippie. They were helping each other light what Lucky sincerely hoped were just cigarettes.

"I saw him, sir, at lunch in the library. He typed the whole thing out himself on the typewriters, four times so it would come out perfect," Minerva stated calmly.

Professor Chaplin grunted, and the momentary spark of hope in Lucky's chest died. Yeah, because the professor was really going to listen to a hippie.

"I saw him there, too, professor," a younger boy spoke up. "I was there. He was at the typewriter next to me."

If the professor was going to listen to anyone, it would be this kid. His name was Ernest Farnsworth, and Lucky had it on good knowledge that he was Professor Chaplin's nephew.

"Oh, all right," the Professor finally said grudgingly. "I'll accept it. It looks nothing like your usual work, however, Stanton."

Lucky didn't care. He was torn between bubbling relief that he had won, and boiling rage that he had been doubted in the first place.

And then Minerva, of all people, standing up for him? Ernest fit the definition of teacher's pet, always honest and disciplined, so naturally he would admit that he had seen Lucky working there, but Minerva?

After class, he clapped Ernest on the back ("Thanks, kid") and ran to catch up with Minerva.

"Yes?" she asked when Lucky had caught his breath.

"Uh, thanks. For back in class. But why did you do it?"

Minerva shrugged. "Because it was the right thing to do. Because, I guess, you stuck by me."

"Huh?" Lucky blurted. That was a new one on him.

"Yes, you thought I was pretty, but you weren't like Jay, parading me around like a trophy. You tried to talk to me, even though I wouldn't listen. You need someone who can listen. But thanks for thinking it was me, anyway."

Lucky stopped dead in his tracks. He needed someone who could listen?

He shook his head to clear it. Minerva's hippie talk was getting to him.

He had known that turning over a new leaf would be difficult, but he hadn't realized just how much. It would be a long haul from here, but, considering what he had lived through before, he knew he could make it through.

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A.J.'s day dragged on and on. All the clocks were surely jammed up with molasses or syrup, because they weren't moving.

She couldn't explain it. It was like she was anticipating something, but what? She just couldn't shake the feeling. She was forgetting something, and it was driving her crazy because she couldn't figure out what it was.

And it didn't help that Pepsi was constantly nudging her. "What?" she whispered. He pointed towards the front of the class. A.J. looked to where he was pointing, and swallowed hard. "…oh."

Ms. Hart was seething. This year the department head had shifted her position from teaching Calculus to teaching Accounting, a class that A.J.'s parents had insisted she take in case she ever changed her mind and decided to become a business major…yeah right. In any case, she wasn't a happy camper because of it, and now she had just caught A.J. not paying attention.

Whoops.

"I asked you, Anjali, if you would please solve this problem for us," she said angrily, pointing to the board with one hand and placing the other on her hip.

"Uh…" A.J. was at a loss for words. She had no idea. "Three," she guessed, completely randomly.

"That is correct," Ms. Hart said, to her astonishment. Wow, I got lucky, A.J. thought.

"Now," Ms. Hart continued. "This next problem is…" but she couldn't go any further. She stopped mid-sentence, her face first going red, then paper-white, then finally green as she placed a hand over her mouth and rushed out of the room.

The students tittered nervously. Was she alright?

"What happened?" A.J. whispered to Pepsi, who merely shrugged.

"It must be morning sickness," Darry said in a low voice from behind them, making them both jump. They hadn't realized he was back there.

"Morning sickness?" A.J. echoed, and it was an effort not to screech in excitement. "You mean she's—"

"Pregnant, yes," Darry said quietly. "But don't let anyone else know, Pepsi," he glared at the boy.

"What?" Pepsi said innocently, his eyes wide-eyed behind his glasses.

A.J. rolled her eyes at Pepsi and turned back to Darry, asking, "So, you don't mind?"

"No," Darry scowled at her. "She's married and I'm over her. So quit asking, already."

A.J. wisely shut her mouth and turned back to the front of the class. She had a feeling that Darry was lying, but she supposed that it was none of her business.

Her thoughts turned, as they always did, to Lucky. Was this what true love was, when you couldn't keep your mind off them for more than two seconds, when everything reminded you of them? If that was the case, then A.J. was in it deep.

She wondered where Lucky was, what he was doing. If he was thinking of her, the way she was thinking of him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Vanilla Pepsi

Darry was exhausted. Over the past four days, Lucky had woken up screaming three nights in a row. Darry sincerely hoped that wouldn't be the case tonight.

"Darry?" A.J. poked him. Darry jerked awake. "Was I dozing again?" he mumbled. "Oh, sorry…"

A.J. caught him just before he fell headfirst into his sandwich and coffee. "Drink the coffee, Dare," she urged.

"Where's Lucky?" asked Minerva, who had taken to sitting with them. None of them had the heart to tell her to go away, and besides, she made better company now than she did before.

"I saw him at the nurse's this morning," said Skate. "She was saying something about seeing a therapist."

"What were you doing spying on him?" A.J. demanded, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I wasn't. I banged up my knee pretty good doing this new skateboarding trick, and so I was at the nurse. She told me to wait until she was done with Lucky and…well, it's not my fault the walls are so thin."

"Yes, they certainly are quite thin, especially when you've got your ear pressed against them," A.J. snapped.

Skate threw his bread roll across the table at her. Pepsi caught it in midair and ate it. Darry rubbed his eyes and drained his coffee. He yawned.

Seeing this, A.J. passed him her cup. "Here," she said. "Finish this. You'll wake up in no time."

Darry did so unwittingly. His face twisted in disgust and he nearly spit out the coffee as he pushed the cup back at A.J. "What the hell is that?" he demanded. "It is the worst coffee I've ever tasted!"

"It's just a double espresso," A.J. said, looking hurt. "I drink one every morning."

"Never again," Darry vowed.

"Well, you're awake, aren't you?" A.J. pointed out.

"A.J.?" said Darry.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Pepsi, meanwhile, was shaking a Pepsi bottle violently. "Here!" he said triumphantly, shoving the bottle under Darry's nose.

"What is it?" Skate said bitingly. "Vanilla Pepsi? What stupid thing will you come up with next?"

"Shut it, Skate. It's no-fizz Pepsi. Try it, Darry! You saw how I shook it up!"

Darry didn't believe it for one second, but took the bottle from Pepsi's eager hands. Making sure to aim it at Pepsi, he unscrewed the lid as A.J. wisely scooted out of the way.

A jet of brown carbonated sugary liquid shot out and hit Pepsi smack in the face. "Oh, well," he said sadly, brown beads dripping from his glasses and hair. "Back to the drawing board."

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As Pepsi traipsed away unhappily to get cleaned up before class, Lucky himself strolled up and took Pepsi's vacated seat.

"Hey, all. Hey, Darry," he said, having the grace to look abashed as Darry gave him a stony look.

"How do you feel?" A.J. asked anxiously.

Lucky shrugged. "Okay, I guess," he said. "I've been better."

"We know," Darry said sullenly.

"Aw, Darry, grow up. He doesn't want nightmares any more than you want him having them," said Skate.

"Are you sure you don't want some LSD?" Minerva suggested. "They always make me feel so much better."

"It's okay," Lucky assured her. "I don't do drugs." Never again. Not after that night.

"Positive?" Minerva pressed. "The square spiders will protect you and Blue will chase your nightmares away. Yellow will make you happy."

They all stared at her. Minerva shrugged, unfazed, as she glanced around for authority before surreptitiously swallowing two pills and walking away.

"Okay," A.J. said to break the silence. That was all it took. They all looked at one another and burst into uncertain laughter. It was just one of those moments.

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"You're gonna be okay, tonight, Lucky, right?"

"I don't know, Darry. I hope so." Lucky paused. "If it bugs you so much, why don't you get another roommate?"

_Because you wake the whole damn dorm up anyway and A.J. would kill me for giving up on you,_ Darry thought. "Because I'm worried about you," he said.

Lucky nodded, as if he didn't really believe it but was willing to accept it. "Okay," he said, and then rolled over to sleep. Darry could hear his deep, even breathing settle into the steady rhythm of sleep almost immediately.

He clicked off the light and hoped—no, prayed—for the best.

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So, that's it. Any suggestions for what should happen next, or if I should just delete this story?

D


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Not Like What?

"A.J.?"

A.J. rolled over at the sound of her name and blearily opened her eyes. What time was it? Five, six a.m.?

Her eyes, half-closed, shot open as they locked on two green eyes that she knew all too well. "Lucky?"

"You awake?" he asked quietly.

"I am now…" A.J. muttered sullenly. "What gives? And what are you doing in the girls' dorm? How did you get in here?"

Lucky grinned fleetingly. "I have my ways of sneaking up here," he said devilishly.

"That is disgusting," A.J. stated. "Get out," she commanded, rolling over again.

"That isn't what I came up here for. I have to talk to you," he insisted. He shook her gently. "Wake up."

_Why me?_ A.J. wondered as she followed Lucky out. _What did I do to get landed with him?_

He stopped and turned around once they were safely outside the girls' dorm. "A.J.," he said quietly. "I keep having these dreams where I wake up screaming. But, tonight I didn't wake up. I actually finished the dream."

A.J. waited for him to continue, shivering a little in the t-shirt and sweatpants she wore as pajamas in the cool night air.

"I'm back in reform. Jail was nothing compared to it. Everybody around me was serious drug addicts or JDs. The people in charge, they look so down on you, like you're dirt and they'd rather be anywhere but here, and they didn't even care when somebody sneaked back pot or whatever from when we went out in the town once a week," he took a deep breath to calm himself down.

A.J. kept silent. It was the first time Lucky had spoken about reform, where he had spent four months.

"It was hell. You can't imagine…those were the longest months of my life. And my dad…he came to get me the day I got out. He told me I was trash," hurt seeped into his voice, "and I wasn't fit to be his son. He told me I was a failure; that I'll never amount to anything."

"That's not true, and you know it," A.J. spoke for the first time.

"It is. This is my eighth year in college, A.J. Dad said that if I can't graduate this year, then he's disowning me and I'm on my own. He would've done it this year," he said bitterly, "But he'd already paid this year off."

"Lucky," A.J. said softly, but he wasn't hearing her anymore.

"Darry keeps telling me I need a therapist. But then today, Minerva said something that really got to me. She said I need somebody who can listen. I need _you,_ A.J., not a therapist."

_Since when does Lucky take advice from a hippie?_ A.J. wondered, but kept her mouth shut. Lucky was in a strange mood.

"A.J.," Lucky continued, "I dreamed," he seemed to choke on his words for a moment, but quickly recovered. "I dreamed that instead of my dad coming to get me from the reform, you did. You just came in, took me by the arm and dragged me out. And nobody noticed."

A.J. nodded. She crossed her arms and her teeth were now chattering as the night had grown steadily colder, or perhaps A.J. had just lost all her body heat, or both. In any case, she was freezing.

Lucky noticed. "I'm sorry," he said. He tugged off his denim jacket and dropped it around A.J.'s shoulders. It was enticingly warm and smelled like him.

"Thanks," A.J. said softly. "But won't you be cold?"

"No," Lucky said. "A.J., maybe this sounds extremely chick flick-like, but that dream was symbolic, sort of. A.J., I think I love you."

Two thoughts clashed in A.J.'s mind at once. _He loves me! He _thinks_ he loves me?_

"Lucky," she said carefully. "You know I love you. You've always known that."

"Not like…never mind," Lucky said. "Good night." He turned abruptly and began walking away.

"Not like what?" A.J. whispered, after he was long gone. It was only after she had confusedly trudged back to her dorm that she realized he had forgotten his jacket.

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_Not like protective, friendly, "I-care-about-you" love,_ was what he had meant to say. _I'm falling in love with you A.J., and it's nutty and I can't explain it and it's happening too fast and I want it to stop but I also don't want it to stop and I don't know why._

He had meant to say all that to her, and she would have said all right, because she's A.J. But somehow, Lucky couldn't bring himself to say it. He didn't know why. He just couldn't.

"You feeling okay?" Darry peered at him concernedly at lunch the next day.

"You do look rather peak-ed," pronounced Oak, who originally hailed from Alabama.

"I'm okay. I'm just…confused," Lucky said tiredly. _A.J. probably thinks I'm a nut job,_ he thought miserably. _She's avoiding me._

"Hey, Lucky," she said from behind him. "Hey, Darry, Oak, Strawberry, Pepsi."

_Okay, so she's not avoiding me,_ Lucky thought.

"Here's your jacket," she continued, draping it over his shoulders. "I'll see you guys later."

_Not totally anyway,_ he thought.

"She's in a very weird mood," commented Pepsi, but Darry was staring from Lucky's moody face to A.J.'s retreating back.

"It's her, isn't it," he said in a hushed voice.

"No," Lucky said unconvincingly. Damn, the guy was good.

"I know you didn't do It," Darry continued, putting emphasis on 'it' to make it clear just what 'it' was, "so what was it? A fight?"

"No," Lucky said. "I'm falling in love with A.J., and I don't know how to tell her. I tried to last night, but I think she got the wrong message," he admitted miserably.

"Why?" Pepsi broke in. "It's easy. Watch. Hey, Angie!" he bellowed across the outdoors cafeteria.

"What?" a red-headed girl barked back.

"I love you!"

"Okay! Call me!"

"See?" Pepsi said. "It's as easy as that." He noticed everyone staring at him like he had grown a second head. "What?"

"It's not that simple," Lucky muttered. "A.J.'s not like other girls. I used to think she was like my sister, or my best friend, but now…it's not even like she's my girlfriend. I just love her."

"When did you figure this out?" Darry asked.

"Well…last night, she was in my dream. Not that kind of dream," he added hastily as Darry rolled his eyes. "God, no. I had that dream again where I keep waking up screaming. Except I didn't, because she was there."

"Don't put too much faith in dreams," Darry warned. "You may not love her like you think after all."

"But I do," Lucky insisted.

"That's for you to decide, Lucky," Darry said seriously, standing up as lunch ended. "I can't tell you what to do. It's your decision."

Lucky stood up and walked to his next class dazedly. He wasn't sure what to think anymore.

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Stupid, right? Eh. Review, please.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Falling

A.J. stepped out of bed the next morning and her head was spinning and she felt as though she were falling through space. As it turned out, she was falling, and the next thing she knew she was on the floor. Her roommate was still sleeping, though she turned over at the sound of A.J. landing with a thud on the floor.

_Why am I so uncoordinated?_ she scolded herself. _Next thing I know, I'll be tripping all over the place. _

She hauled herself off the floor and staggered to the bathroom, where she paused for a breath, leaning against the wall and watching the floor tiles, a black and white checkerboard, spin lazily against the shower curtain.

A.J. shook her head. What was the matter? It wasn't like she had a hangover or anything, although she did have a splitting migraine.

A hot shower cleared her head, although her sinuses still throbbed in the throes of a headache.

_Maybe I'm just hungry,_ she thought. When you were really hungry you got dizzy, right? Maybe breakfast would clear this up.

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Darry stared at A.J. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked, well, unfocused. And she was eating like there was no tomorrow.

"A.J., are you feeling okay?" he inquired slowly.

"No," she admitted, dropping her toast. "I feel terrible, like I've got a hangover. But I don't."

His parenting instincts kicking in, Darry put a hand to her forehead. "You don't have a fever," he said with surprise. "You're really cold."

"Try these," Minerva dangled a paper bag in front of A.J.

A.J. raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I don't do drugs, Minerva," she said shortly. Minerva shrugged and walked away.

Darry peered concernedly at A.J. "Go to the nurse," he suggested.

"I'll be okay," A.J. insisted. "I'm just a little dizzy because I'm hungry, and I have a headache but that's nothing unusual."

"Okay," Darry said reluctantly. "But if you feel any worse, go to the nurse, all right?"

A.J. nodded. She wolfed down her toast and grabbed a bagel as the cafeteria emptied for class. As she jumped up, she nearly fell over and grabbed the table for support.

Darry frowned at her. "Are you sure you didn't do anything last night that would cause this? Like maybe getting hit over the head with something heavy?"

A.J. glared up at him. "I'm sure," she said. "See you after class."

"Yeah," Darry said, still frowning. "See you."

His gut instinct told him that something was very wrong. But what?

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A.J. could barely focus in class. The blackboard was closing in on itself, blackening with every word the teacher wrote. She shook her had slightly, and everything sprang back to normal.

Pepsi nudged her. "Are you sure you're okay? You looked kind of…sick."

"Thanks a lot," she muttered. "Shut up before we get caught."

Lucky poked her from above. "If you're catching a cold or something, you should've stayed in bed," he chastised softly. Hearing his voice in her ear sent chills down her spine.

"He's right, you know," Pepsi intoned quietly.

"You do look peak-ed, like Lucky was the other day. 'Cept you look sicker," Oak said quietly from her other side.

She ignored them, gritting her teeth in irritation. Since when were they doctors? They didn't know what they were talking about, she concluded.

As class ended and she stood up, the room began spinning again. She felt as though someone had drenched her with cold water, and her knees gave out as she gladly succumbed to darkness.

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A.J. made no sound as she folded up. Pepsi was the one who shouted for help, but it was Lucky who scooped her up in his arms and bolted out the door, sprinting for the campus doctor.

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Short, I know. Sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Rush

A.J. awoke with the scent of lemony air-freshener in her nose and the sounds of a rhythmical beeping and somebody spraying an aerosol can. She cautiously opened her eyes. They fell upon an elderly nurse wielding the air-freshener aerosol can. Everything about her was white, from her snowy hair to her starched uniform to her powdered face.

She turned and spotted A.J. "Oh," she warbled, not stopping her spraying. "Good to see you're up, dear. You've been asleep for nearly fifteen hours!"

A.J. ignored her. Looking around, she could see that she was neither in her dorm or the campus doctor's office. She was in a small, clean hospital room, hooked up to, as she now noticed for the first time, to an IV. She was also hooked up to a machine, which was causing the annoying beeping.

"What happened? Why am I in the hospital?" A.J. asked cautiously.

"According to the young man that brought you in, you collapsed in class. His friend informed us that you were feeling dizzy all day. You gave both of them quite a scare," the nurse scolded. She had stopped spraying and now bustled over to A.J. and felt her forehead.

"At any rate, your fever's broken," she said. "While you were unconscious, Dr. Saunders took some tests. He'll be coming in shortly. For now, though, the young man who brought you in with the campus doctor has been waiting outside since he brought you in, poor dear, he was so worried. Dr. Saunders practically had to throw him out of the examination room."

"Who?" A.J. sat up straight. Oak? Darry? Somebody strong, it must've been, to haul her all the way over to the campus doctor and then here. "Can I see him?"

The nurse cut her eyes at A.J. disapprovingly. "At your age, young lady," she said severely, "one should not be thinking merely of boyfriends and such. You ought to be thinking of finishing your education, or failing that, getting married! I myself was married by the age of twenty, and—"

"Miss?" A.J. interrupted. "I just want to thank my friend."

The nurse scowled at being interrupted on her stroll down nostalgia lane, but she strode out and reappeared with A.J.'s knight in shining armor in tow.

"How're you doing?" were the first words out of Lucky's mouth.

He looked so anxious, so unlike himself. "Okay, I guess," A.J. said, trying to make light of the situation. "Considering I'm in the hospital."

"But you're okay," Lucky said.

"Yeah," A.J. said. "Thanks for getting me over here."

"No problem. Everything all right so far?"

"Yeah, but it's boring. And I wish that machine would stop beeping, it's so annoying," A.J. complained truthfully.

"You better hope it _doesn't_ stop beeping," Lucky warned seriously, though a smile tugged at his mouth.

Pepsi burst into the room, with Darry, Oak and Skate in tow. Minerva trailed in behind them, looking spacey and as though she had wandered in by accident.

"A.J.," Pepsi panted. "We came as soon as we heard you were awake."

"How'd you guys get here so quick?" A.J. inquired. She had no idea how far the hospital was from the main building, which showed exactly how much she knew about Chicago outside campus.

"You're at Rush Medical Center," Darry informed her. "There's interns all over the place."

"They're scary," Skate added, looking haunted. "That one girl was telling me how she was going to dissect a cadaver, namely one called Skate." He shuddered.

"Aw, she was just kiddin' with ya," Oak reassured him, clapping the rail thin boy on the back and causing his knees to buckle.

"Actually it's a bit of raunchy intern slang." The elderly nurse had returned, and she now spoke with disapproval. "It means, she likes your looks and would…ahem, like to get to know you better. And you, Miss Jahaji," she addressed A.J., "the doctor will see you now. The rest of you, out!"

"But we just got here!" Pepsi protested. "We came all this way, walking, mind you, and now you're going to just throw us out into the street?"

The nurse sighed exasperatedly at Pepsi. "Nice try, young man. I happen to know for a fact that the University of Chicago is no more than one block away. You may see her when that doctor is through with her. For now, OUT!"

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A few minutes later, Dr. Saunders reemerged from A.J.'s room. Oak and Darry sat quietly outside, Skate had disappeared to find that intern, and both Lucky and Pepsi paced the hallways, muttering to themselves.

"She's got to be all right," Lucky was convincing himself.

"I don't understand it," Pepsi was whining. "Why can't I combine lime with Pepsi and not have it come out acidic and bitter?"

Dr. Saunders cleared his throat. Darry leapt up, but Lucky got there first. "What's happened to her?" he blurted.

Dr. Saunders took a step back, as though in defense from the menacing redhead in front of him. When he spoke, it was perfect English though with a tinge of a foreign accent that Darry had never heard before.

"It appears that she has contracted a flu virus," the doctor began. "From the outside symptoms of dizziness and nausea. We have conducted thorough x-rays, and nothing suggests a tumor, ruling out cancer. Her myelin sheaths, axons and dendrites are in perfect condition, ruling out MS or any brain dementia for that matter. Not that dementia was an issue, given her age."

Continuing from the chart, he read: "She has evidence of a foregone crack in her left tibia—that is, she broke her left forearm sometime in her childhood and it healed neatly, but other than that there is no evidence of physical injury or substance abuse. I spoke with her just now, and I have a degree and Ph.D. in psychology. She has no mental problems, and no symptoms of post-traumatic distress syndrome, although recent events in her life may be of cause to that."

He glanced up. "Her height and weight are average and healthy for her ethnicity and bone structure, she shows no sign of physical or mental disability. Her heart rate, pulse, blood pressure, and breathing are all normal. She appears perfectly healthy. But," he heaved a deep sigh.

"But what?" Darry demanded, his voice sounding too loud even to himself.

"A blood test reveals otherwise. Her white blood count is normal, showing no signs of recent infection, and her red blood cells appear healthy, but her platelet count is dangerously low. She has been given plasma, but it appears to have had no effect. And neither does her dangerously low platelet level," he added. "She should have either leukemia or hemophilia by medical standards, but she has neither. She is perfectly all right! There's no explaining it!"

"So you mean you have no idea what's wrong with her," Lucky stated flatly.

"I'm afraid that's the case," Dr. Saunders sighed.

"What kind of idiots are you?" Lucky exploded. "If you don't know what's up, then what's the effing point?"

Darry tried to restrain him, but Lucky twisted free of his grip and stormed down the hall and out, kicking over a couple of chairs and terrifying a couple of nurses while he was at it.

"I'm sorry about him," Darry apologized to the doctor. "He's, uh, a bit emotional."

"Perfectly understandable," Dr. Saunders replied. "But for now, we would like to keep her here and run a few more tests. Just to be perfectly sure everything is in order for Miss Jahaji."

Darry nodded numbly. "Okay," he said.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Oak spoke for the first time since they had been kicked out by the all-white nurse.

"We certainly hope so," Dr. Saunders said gravely. "We certainly hope so. For now, you may go in and speak to her. I must contact her parents. They already are informed of her being here, and they promised to be here as soon as possible."

As if on cue, the doors at the end of the hall burst open and a dark-skinned woman who looked like an older version of Anjali dashed down the hall, dragging along either side of her with an iron grip a man who was obviously A.J.'s father and Lucky, who seemed too surprised to attempt to break free.

"Where is Anjali?" the woman demanded of Dr. Saunders in a thick accent.

"Please, madam, I ask you not to shout in the hospital," Dr. Saunders attempted.

"Who is shouting? I am talking only," the woman roared. She pushed past the helpless doctor and barged inside, shouting A.J.'s name and dragging her husband and Lucky in too. Mr. Jahaji slipped back out a moment later to talk with the doctor.

"We'll come back some other time," Darry said. "A.J. probably needs her rest."

"True," Dr. Saunders agreed. "And when you do, kindly bring along her class work. She seemed rather miffed about falling behind."

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Lucky couldn't wait until her parents left. When they finally did, A.J. fell back on her pillow in exaggerated exhaustion.

"Just talking to them," she moaned, "is enough to kill me."

"Man, your mom's one tough cookie," Lucky said, rubbing his arm. "You must've really been a runaway as a kid, cause when she latched on to my arm, man. She's like Superwoman, with a grip of steel."

"I know," A.J. sighed. "She's crazy. They'll be going back tonight, and they'll come by train every week or so. They think it's best I stay here, for school and not falling behind and stuff." She paused before going on quietly, "I heard you guys in the hall. Dr. Saunders says it's a good chance it's nothing to be worried about. I could just be an unusual case, where I naturally don't need a lot of platelets."

"I hope so," Lucky muttered. His hand found hers. "I really hope so. For his sake."

As much as he convinced himself, Lucky couldn't shake the feeling that A.J. wasn't an unusual case. Because, after all, only the good die young.

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Whaddya think?


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Hard Times

"There is nothing wrong with you, as far as we can see," Dr. Saunders said gravely. "You are free to go. But," he added, "at first sign of trouble come straight back here. and please, this time do not wait until you pass out."

A.J. walked back to the university. The place was deserted, everyone being in class. A.J. debated going to class or hanging around.

"A.J.!" a voice exclaimed behind her. "Do you wish to join us?"

A.J. turned in horror. It was Minerva. "No, thanks," she said. "I've got to get to class."

"No need to panic," Minerva laughed gently. "We're not doing any drugs. We're just sitting and talking for now."

"But you're going to the dealer later to restock, right?" A.J. said flatly.

"Definitely," Minerva smiled. "But for now, take a day off. Please, come join us for meditation."

"I really can't," A.J. excused herself. "I've been gone for a week, if I get any more behind I'll be here all summer too."

"Suit yourself," Minerva said serenely before walking off.

A.J. darted to Physics. She was almost there, just reaching for the doorknob…

The bell rang. A.J. groaned, but stepped aside just before the door slammed open and all the students stampeded out.

She snatched the arm of the last one to swagger out. Lucky looked around in surprise, and then looked down. "Oh. A.J.! You're out of the hospital!"

"Yeah," A.J. said, grinning. "I'm okay."

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Lucky breathed an inward sigh of relief. She was okay…for now at least, said a traitorous little voice in his head.

Lucky kicked it out. She was going to be fine. She _was._

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"Stupid bills," Soda muttered. "They're never ending!"

"I know!" Ponyboy groaned, throwing down another stack. "This never happened before. What's up now?"

"Just hard times," Soda sighed. "Have you heard from that publisher yet?"

"No," Ponyboy moaned, putting his head in his hands. "It sucks being a writer. Why wasn't I something useful, like a multi-millionaire?"

"It's okay, Pony," Soda soothed. "You're a good writer, they'll say yes. Then we'll be living like kings."

Ponyboy was inconsolable. "I wish Darry were here," he said. "This never happened when he was here."

"Sure it did," Soda insisted. "He just never let on."

"What are we going to do?" Ponyboy moaned. "We'll never make ends meet at this rate."

"Don't worry, little buddy," Soda reassured. How often had Darry said those exact words to him, when it was the two of them working?

"We'll make it through," he said now, taking the words right out of Darry's mouth.

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Darry himself, meanwhile, had problems of his own. Ms. Hart, who at the beginning of the year had been as kind as ever, was turning into the wicked witch.

"What!" Darry exclaimed at sight of his grade.

"You too?" Pepsi said glumly. "I don't know what's up. She's a madwoman!"

"It must be the hormones," Darry muttered. "I mean, come on. Five points off for a missing bracket?"

Pepsi put his head down. "I can just kiss my grade goodbye," he groaned.

"These are difficult times," Darry muttered, crushing his paper in his hand.

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I get the feeling that nobody likes this story. Just effing tell me and I'll delete the story.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: The Godfather

Darry squinted at his book, rereading the same sentence for the fifth time. It never ceased to amaze him that every class of his taught by Ms. Hart, he could never understand a word and ended up nearly failing in. He just didn't understand it. He had been on the Math League in high school!

Finally he slammed it shut in frustration. Lucky looked over. "Take a chill pill," he drawled lazily.

Darry cracked a grin. "That's Minerva's bag, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Presently Lucky sat up. "I'm bored," he announced.

"Heaven forbid," Darry muttered.

"Let's go see a movie."

Darry glanced at the clock and nearly laughed out loud. "It's nearly midnight! What idiots are going to agree to see a movie at this hour?"

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"I'm an idiot," Darry sighed to himself as he, Lucky, and about ten other people ambled down to the cinema.

"What movie are we seeing?" Strawberry asked.

"Like it matters," Speed sniggered.

"For those of us who actually care about the movie," Oak cut in sharply. "We can see _The Godfather,_ _Jaws, Star Wars, _or _Carrie._"

"All great movies," Pepsi said. "I'm telling you, the seventies are going to go down in cinema history as the decade of great movies, along with the thirties."

"The thirties?" Lucky laughed. "Why the thirties?"

"_The Wizard of Oz_ and _Gone With the Wind,_ of course," Pepsi said.

"Sure. Know any more funny stories?" Lucky chuckled. Pepsi looked downcast, but cheered up as the concession stand came into view.

"I vote _The Godfather,_" said Strawberry. "Marlon Brando is so dreamy."

"He's old enough to be your dad!" Skate exclaimed.

"So?"

Lucky noticed that A.J. had been unusually quiet this whole time. Normally he would have been able to hear her giggling above everybody else's, but as he looked at her, she was shaking with silent laughter.

He nudged her subtly. "Everything okay?" he said in a low voice.

"Yeah," she said, and Lucky was shocked to hear her voice. From what he could hear of it, it was raspy and torn.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll see the doctor first thing tomorrow," she promised.

"You'd better," Lucky warned. He draped his arm around her shoulders and steered her into the theater. Nothing to worry about, right? It was just a bug that had been going around, right?

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"It is merely a sore throat," Dr. Saunders concluded. "There is nothing to worry about. Drink lots of water, don't talk so much, and you will be fine by tomorrow."

"Actually I feel fine now," A.J. said. "It was just last night that it hurt so much."

"Well, then, I see nothing to worry about. Run along now, or you will be late for class."

"Thanks, Dr. Saunders," A.J. said, grabbing her bag and darting out. If she missed a single class more, she was toast for the rest of the year.

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"I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse," Lucky told her at lunch. He had been quoting _The Godfather_ all day. It was getting quite annoying.

A.J. cut her eyes at him. "What," she stated.

"I'll trade you a cookie for your chips."

"What kind?"

"Chocolate chip."

A.J. considered. "Okay."

"I'll trade you your chocolate chip cookie for an oatmeal raisin one," Skate said.

A.J. eyed it warily. "Are those the ones your grandma sends you?"

"Yes," Skate sighed gloomily.

"Forget it. They taste—"

"Like sawdust," Skate interrupted. "I know, I know."

Jay stormed up. He was in a permanently black mood these days, ever since Minerva had turned hippie. Normally he was just looking for someone to vent to, but today he was bursting with news.

"Did you guys hear?" he exclaimed.

"Hear what?" Darry said.

"Minerva and her hippie friends got caught doing and dealing. Her two friends are in the slammer, but Minerva's smart. Well, in her own way. Sort of. She had a moment. She put on all her makeup and got dolled up and everything and cried for the judge, and he put her in rehab. Two weeks."

A.J. nearly spat out her soda laughing. "Two weeks?" she practically shrieked.

"Damn," Lucky said in a low voice. "She's got one thing going for her. She's a con artist."

"If she pairs up with somebody and they go on a stealing spree, will she be Thelma or Louise?" Pepsi said. Everybody turned to stare at him. "What?" he demanded upon seeing their incredulous looks.

"Anyway," Jay went on. "Maybe when she comes out she'll be herself again. My girl," he said hopefully.

When he had left to tell some others the news, Skate said, "Do you think we should break it to him? That two weeks aren't gonna do anything?"

"No," Darry said firmly. "We need those two weeks of him not storming around like an enraged bull seeing red."

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That night, Lucky couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. His thoughts kept drifting to A.J.

_What if she really does have something bad?_ he wondered. _What if she dies?_

It was one traitorous thought after the other. He couldn't seem to make them stop.

_What if she's okay?_

_What if she's not?_

_What if Dr. Saunders is a quack?_

Then, finally the thought that made him reach for the sleeping pills the doctor had given him after his third night of waking up screaming:

_What will I do without her if she dies?_

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Were all those movies around by 1977? I thought they were, but I'm not sure…


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: Mad Scientists

It was two weeks later. A day or so ago, everyone had been buzzing about Minerva's return. But now, nobody could talk about anything but A.J.

It had, or so Darry had heard, started the night before, when A.J.'s roommate, Strawberry, had awoken to A.J. coughing harshly in the bathroom. She had run over to help her, and, upon seeing A.J. coughing up blood, had run for the nurse.

She was in the hospital now. Lucky had gone straight over first thing in the morning, but she had chased him away. "Get to class!" she had snapped. "Who else is going to bring me the work?"

It was now four p.m. Darry, followed by Lucky, Pepsi and Skate scuttled down the hallway. Dr. Saunders emerged from A.J.'s room, and Darry had to restrain Lucky from throttling the poor man.

"You said she was going to be okay!" he roared.

"It appears otherwise, Mr. Stanton," the doctor said coldly. "I must ask you to keep your voice down. This is a hospital."

"You're gonna need one pretty soon, you goddamn charlatan," Lucky growled, but Darry elbowed him quiet.

"Are there any new developments?" Skate inquired. Darry rolled his eyes. Since he had started dating that intern, he thought he was a world-famous brain surgeon.

"Last night we tested her for several other diseases and cancers: typhoid, tumors, AIDS, etcetera. All negative. For now, all we can do is give her antibiotics for the pain," Dr. Saunders responded. "If she does have something, it is a new, possibly genetic disease. It is impossible to know for sure, as the family medical history would come from India," here he frowned, "and in older times, they, unfortunately, were lax about keeping records of patients, even deaths and births." He sighed. "We will just have to wait and see."

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Lucky was the first to barge into A.J.'s room, despite Dr. Saunders' vehement insistence that he didn't.

A.J. and both her parents looked up as the door slammed against the wall. "Who are these _goondas_ who are thinking they can come in here?" her mother roared.

"Mom, chill. They're my friends," A.J. said weakly.

Her mother's eyes shot open at the sight of the four of them. "Ram, what has corrupted our daughter!" She rounded on her husband. "I am telling you and telling! Does it have to happen to your own daughter before you understand? I am telling you that a nice local college is the only way she will not be wayward! But no! And look at this now! Four boyfriends! One insane," she stabbed a finger at Pepsi, "one a dirty hoodlum," at Lucky, "one trying at be a girl," at long-haired Skate, "and one at least fifty years old," at Darry.

"Mom!" A.J. exclaimed. "How can you say that? They're just friends, not boyfriends!"

Lucky felt a pang as those words spilled from her mouth, and he hoped that she was just saying them for her mother's benefit.

"I am sorry, chaps," her father apologized. "Please you are forgiving her. She is not knowing, and also she is very stressed with our daughter's situation."

"Yeah," Pepsi muttered sullenly. He hadn't appreciated being called insane.

"Anyways, we have been here all the day. We should be getting going now." Surprisingly enough, this statement came from her mother. She stood up and brushed imaginary dirt off her slacks. "Come, Daddy."

"Shall I drive, Mummy?" he asked as they exited.

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"Sorry about my mom, though. She…gets carried away," A.J. apologized.

"How'd you feel?" Pepsi asked anxiously. He and Skate sat in the chairs her parents had vacated, and Darry maintained his position by the door. Lucky hovered by her bed.

"Okay, I guess," A.J. said. "The antibiotics took care of the pain, but I've been coughing up a lung and puking everything I eat all day. I don't know what's up, but Dr. Saunders says some national experts are coming in tomorrow."

"That moron's a quack," Lucky said. "He has no idea what the hell he's doing, none of them do—"

"Give it a rest, Roger," Darry said tiredly.

"Man, your mom's sure overprotective," Skate remarked. Seeing A.J.'s expression, he added quickly, "I don't mean anything by it. I'm just saying," he paused, as if he wasn't exactly sure what he was saying. "Do I really look like a girl?"

"No," Darry said. "But your hair is too long. And I don't look fifty." A beat. "Do I?"

"No, of course not," A.J. said. She grinned. "You don't look a day over seventy-five."

"If you were outta that bed, and if you weren't a girl…" Darry pounded his fist on his palm threateningly.

"Too bad I'm neither," A.J. said struggling to sit up. "How's stuff?"

They shrugged. They sat in silence for a while. What was there, really, to say?

Skate was saved when the intern came around and picked him up. When he was gone, Pepsi went off on his newest formula of Pepsi.

"It'll never sell, Pepsi," Darry groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Sure it will." Pepsi had that maniac look in his eyes again. He was exactly like a mad scientist. All he needed was a lab coat and wild white hair, him already having the crazy ideas and insane fervor.

Darry rolled his eyes and stalked out. Pepsi followed him out, saying, "Whaaaat?"

"We'll catch up with you later, A.J.," Darry said calmly. "You coming, Lucky?"

"In a second," he said. When they had left, he dragged a chair up beside her bed and plunked down in it. "So how're you _really_ feeling?"

"Terrible," she groaned, flopping back on her pillow. A.J. wondered how he had seen through her charade. "My head's pounding, I'm nauseous all the time, and Dr. Saunders says it could get worse."

"I'm sorry," Lucky said quietly, his hand finding hers. They sat like that for a long while, just talking, until the nurse kicked him out, saying that visiting hours were over.

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	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Back Again

"Ta-da!" A.J. cheered, sliding sock-footed into Darry and Lucky's dorm.

"A.J.!" Darry exclaimed. "Ouch!" he roared as Lucky barreled into him. He had been leaning back in a chair, his back to the door, but upon hearing A.J.'s voice had fallen completely backwards, landing with a hard thud on the floor, somersaulted backwards and hoisted himself up in one smooth move before slipping on his own sweater and stumbling forward, crashing into Darry and managing to trip a few more feet forward into a laughing A.J.'s arms.

Darry grinned as Lucky swung A.J. around in circles. "Careful!" he warned as Lucky edged dangerously near the sweater again.

"So what happened?" Skate demanded, who, having heard the commotion, had come to investigate.

"I recovered," A.J. giggled. "They couldn't find anything wrong."

"What?" Lucky demanded, setting A.J. down and glaring at her. "They just let you go?"

"Yeah, I know," A.J. said. "But I couldn't stand to spend another minute in there! They took two more tests and they'll have the results in a couple of weeks. For now," she moonwalked across the floor, "I am FREE!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Darry demanded, staring at her.

"Dancing!"

"That's not dancing," Skate sniggered. "That's—"

"Listen, it's gonna be famous someday!" A.J. snapped.

"Sure," Darry said, grinning. "Just like cherry Pepsi."

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Lucky drove A.J. to the hospital two weeks later. A.J. was laughing and chattering away, but Lucky was a bundle of nerves. Who knew what this diagnosis could be?

When A.J. got her results from Dr. Saunders and stepped out of hi office, Lucky stared at her. "Well?" he demanded. "What is it?"

A.J. took a deep breath and told him: "Lam's disease."

Lucky blurted out, "What?"

"It's a lung disease," A.J. told him, and then Lucky exploded.

"They couldn't have found this earlier?" he roared, but A.J. restrained him.

"Lucky, it'll all be all right. I'm going to be fine," she soothed him. She swallowed hard. "It's…they found cysts on my lungs. They come and go, which is why they didn't find them earlier."

"Cysts," Darry repeated. "They can remove those, right?"

"Right," A.J. affirmed hollowly. Dr. Saunders emerged from his office and placed a hand on A.J.'s shoulder. "Um," A.J. continued. "They can remove them. But they'll keep coming back. And, um…" she gave the doctor an imploring look.

Dr. Saunders finished for her. "The cysts will keep taking over more and more of her lung tissue, until there isn't enough left for her to breathe. We will put her on a respirator, but beyond that, there isn't much we can do."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Lucky demanded, his hands bunching into fists.

A.J. bit her lip. "It means…I have about ten years."

_Ten years,_ Lucky thought. _In ten years, A.J.'ll be dead._

And with that, all hell broke loose.

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"I can't believe it!" Lucky groaned. "I'm in jail again!"

"It's only two more days before your sentence is up," A.J. reminded him. "And believe it or not, it's a felony to assault a doctor and send him to the third floor."

"The third floor?" Lucky said.

"Normally sustained injuries, like broken arms and gashes…and getting beat up severely," she added, glaring at Lucky.

"Lost my temper," Lucky mumbled. "A.J.," he said, voice beginning to crack, "I don't want you to die."

"I don't want me to die, either, Lucky," A.J. said. "And I'm not going to."

Lucky nodded, even though they both knew she was lying.

There was no separating wall between them, but a guard was watching them. As he turned to check up on another one of the visitor booths, Lucky leaned forward and kissed A.J.

"I love you," he whispered as the guard barked that visiting hours were up.

"I love you, too," A.J. whispered back.

Lucky didn't think he had ever been so sorry to see her go, even when he had been in jail last year. Because then at least he had known she would come back. Now he didn't.

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Review, please.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen: Closest Blood

A.J. was back in the hospital, Lucky learned upon returning to school after his stint in jail ended.

Darry sighed, and Lucky thought he caught a glimpse of Darry as an old man. An extremely fit, muscled old man, but an old man nonetheless.

"Will she be okay?" Lucky asked stupidly, as if Darry could know.

"Dr. Saunders said—" Darry began, but never finished his sentence. He was cut off by several loud expletives from, surprisingly, Jay.

"Mini took off," he explained, waving a note in Lucky's face. "Left it on my door last night. She was high and hiked to San Francisco."

"It says that in the note?" Darry guessed.

"No, she called me this morning and told me," Jay said. "After I found this note."

Lucky squinted at it. "I can't make anything out," he admitted.

"Well, she was high when she wrote it," Jay said.

Lucky shrugged. He had a point. But he wasn't interested in that just now. "Darry, I have to go see A.J. I have to know what's wrong."

He turned around with every intention to get to the hospital, by walking if necessary, when an apologetic sound from Darry made him turn around again.

"Um…"

"What?"

Darry sighed again. "Look," he said tiredly. "A.J…she…" He paused.

"What?" Lucky demanded. A gut feeling of trepidation was twisting in his stomach.

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Darry was unsure of how to put this to Lucky. He didn't want him exploding again. Then again, it was probably better that he exploded on Darry, who would at least be able to defend himself against Lucky, rather than poor Dr. Saunders again.

"Something happened and…well…Lucky, the disease she has…it's decreasing blood flow to her vital systems. Since they diagnosed it they've been treating her, and she's responding well to treatment."

"But?" Lucky said. Coming from him, the question sounded like a threat.

"But since they diagnosed it late, some of her organs have already started malfunctioning." The look on Lucky's face alone made him want to shut his mouth, but he plunged on anyway, possibly against his better judgment.

"Her kidneys are as good as gone. They're doing the best they can to save her liver, but it's not likely."

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Darry's voice seemed to be getting far away. When Lucky spoke, it was as though his own voice were far away as well.

"How about organ donation?" he heard himself ask through a roaring ocean in his ears.

Darry laughed mirthlessly. "She's one of millions waiting," he said.

"Who's donating a kidney to her?" Lucky wanted to know. He could give her a kidney. Hell, she could have both his kidneys and his liver, too, if it meant saving her.

Darry frowned, as if he suspected Lucky of having the thoughts he was having. "Her parents just got tested for a match," he said.

"I'll get tested too," Lucky burst out. "If they don't match."

"That's unlikely, since they're closest blood to her," Darry pointed out.

It was Lucky's turn to frown. "I'm just saying," he said defensively. "If it doesn't match. In the unlikely case."

"That's improbable," Darry said. "A few years ago my brother Soda's kidneys failed, and both Ponyboy and I matched, but the doctor said I would be a better possibility since Pony's a smoker." He sounded a bit prideful about it.

"Thanks for that anecdote," Lucky muttered sarcastically. "Can we at least go see her?"

"Just tried," Skate said from behind him. Lucky turned to see him and Oak. "Family only at this time," Skate went on.

"What happened to Pepsi? I thought he went with you guys," Darry said.

Oak rolled his eyes. "He took a detour to the patent place."

Lucky shook his head sadly. "Will the kid never learn."

"Still," Skate said with a shrug. "You can't blame the kid for having dreams. If Pepsi didn't have his crazy dreams…he wouldn't be Pepsi."

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Jeez, it's been a while.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Dialysis

A.J. shifted uncomfortably in her bed. She had never liked sitting in the same position for too long, but she couldn't twist and turn with the dialysis tubes draped over her body and the needles taped in place on her arms.

Lucky visited almost every day. The carnations he had brought for her birthday were still on her bedside table.

The way Lucky looked at her had changed. At first, A.J. had thought it was pity, but it was something softer than that.

Darry, Pepsi, Skate and the others visited, too. Even Minerva/Mini/Sunshine had visited her once before the nurse got suspicious and threw her out.

What surprised A.J. more than anything was that Lucky had started trying in all of his classes. What's more, he was doing well in them.

_He might actually graduate in a year or two, _A.J. realized.

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Lucky had slightly different concerns, namely, that while he might graduate in a couple of years, A.J. would never graduate college, or become an artist, or get married. Her parents hadn't been a good enough match for her.

"Test me," Lucky had begged the doctor. "I'll give her my kidney. Both, if she needs them."

The doctor, a hard-faced man with thick glasses and deep parentheses by his mouth, exhaled through his nose.

"Mr. Stanton, I'm afraid you are not eligible to be a donor."

"Is it because I'm not blood related? I—"

"That is not it, Mr. Stanton," the doctor cut him off. "I did indeed examine your records like you asked me to, multiple times I might add. But your, ah…your stint in rehabilitation and the drugs that were found in your system, coupled with whatever you might have taken in prison, make you ineligible to ever be a donor."

Lucky felt his stomach drop. He managed to splutter out, "But I never took anything in prison!"

"Regardless," the doctor said shortly. "Now excuse me, please, I have other patients to attend to."

"That's not fair!" Lucky shouted. "It's not her fault I did that, and I'm clean! It was only the one thing, and then I never touched that shit again!"

The doctor was already walking away. "Mr. Stanton, calm down or I will be forced to call security," a nurse told him, frowning.

Lucky stormed out of the ward. He only hoped A.J. hadn't seen his outburst.

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Darry considered his class schedule. If he majored in business or economics…well, then, glory, as long as he focused on taking those classes and didn't take any extracurriculars, he could graduate by the end of next year!

He breathed a sigh of relief. He knew his tuition was a burden on Ponyboy and Soda. Ponyboy hadn't received as big an advance as he would have liked on his next novel, but the readers seemed to love it, because, at least according to Soda's letters, they got a fat royalties check every week.

He wished he could see his brothers again. He missed them more and more every day. It didn't help that he was lonely—Lucky spent all his spare time studying or visiting A.J., and the other kids were always smoking, drinking and hanging around the movie theater. Darry had had enough of that in his teen years.

He sighed and rested his chin on his hand. What was there to do for a guy like him?

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"Eeungh! Fifty!" Darry thrust the weighted bar upwards for the last time, and then balanced the bar on its stand before sitting up and mopping the sweat off his brow. It had been a while since he had worked out, and he had never come to the gym before. He didn't know why, since it was free for students.

He pushed his wet hair out of his face. _Yuck, _he thought. He needed a shower. He tossed his towel over his shoulder and walked back to the dorm, hoping he didn't smell too bad.

Lucky was in the dorm when Darry walked in. "God, what's that stink? Did a skunk die in your pants?" Lucky teased, pinching his nose and fanning the air with his hand.

"I don't smell any worse than this room when I first moved in," Darry said, trying to be prim but fighting a laugh. It was good to see Lucky smiling for a change. "How's A.J.?"

"Doing fine. I…well, I sort of got into it with the doctor. He says I'm an ineligible donor because of my record, and I left mad, but A.J. called and, well, you know how she is."

Darry nodded. The way Lucky felt about A.J. these days, it was no wonder a word from her could brighten his whole day.

"So what can they do for her?"

Lucky sighed, the corners of his mouth suddenly turning down. "I don't know," he said, discouraged. "They're trying everything they can. It's just not enough, you know?"

"Yeah," Darry said. "I know."

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Finally back! Review please!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Because I'm Stupid

Darry returned from the gym the next day and was greeted with yelps of pain coming from the dorm bathroom. Dropping his gym bag, Darry sprinted to the bathroom and wrenched the door open. "Who's hurt?" he blurted, and then his eyes adjusted to the scene before him.

Lucky was sitting on the floor, one towel wrapped around his shoulders and another wrapped around his head like a turban. His face was screwed up, and although he was gritting his teeth now, Darry knew it was Lucky's yells he had heard. Skate and Pepsi were squatting beside him with a bowl of black goop. Skate gestured wildly with a rubber-gloved hand.

"Shut the door," he said urgently. "We're not supposed to be doing this."

Darry stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him. He raised an eyebrow and remarked, "You're either getting rid of his head lice or bleaching his hair. I can believe both, so which one is it?"

"We're not bleaching it," Pepsi said patiently. "We're dyeing it black."

"With what, tar? Why's it burning him so much?"

"Well, uh," Pepsi said sheepishly. "We tried doing it once already and it didn't turn out dark enough. So…"

Darry finished for him. "So you tried to use the whole bottle all at once."

"Yeah," Skate said, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand and leaving a smear of dye.

"And why, pray tell?" Darry inquired dryly.

"They won't let Roger Stanton get tested to give A.J. a kidney," Lucky said. "So Rajesh Jahaji is going to get tested."

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Darry barked. "How do you think you're going to get away with that? Dark hair or no, you'll never pass for Indian! And you think that if A.J. actually had a brother, they wouldn't have gotten him tested already? And besides, that doctor already knows what you look like, and so do all the nurses and probably even all the people working at the hospital cafeteria." Darry stopped himself, seeing Lucky's face falling faster than a ruined soufflé.

"I have to try," Lucky said quietly. "The only reason they won't let me is because of my record. I'll say I'm her cousin, and her parents have asked me to help out."

"And what about your face?" Darry demanded.

"I'll comb my hair over my face a little. And I'll keep my head down. They won't recognize me."

"Okay Raj, but isn't there one more thing you're forgetting?" Darry said sardonically. "You, sir, are a white boy. Your lily white behind is not going to pass for Indian."

"I'll tell them I'm half-white, half-Indian," Lucky said. "My dad from India married my mom from…uh, Cleveland?"

Darry felt like he was talking to a fourteen-year-old Ponyboy again. Could Lucky not see this made absolutely no sense whatsoever?

But then he caught the look of desperation in Lucky's eyes. This kid was at his wits' end, and so powerless to do anything for the girl he loved he was driven to this.

_Love,_ Darry thought, _makes you stupid._

He turned and stalked out of the bathroom without another word.

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Lucky actually kind of liked the way he looked with dark hair. He waggled his eyebrows, which they'd had to dye too so it would match.

He had shaved so there would be no auburn-colored stubble on his face and changed into some respectable clothes that he hoped made him look older while Darry ignored him, his back stiff, typing something up.

"Wait a minute," Darry said as Lucky was about to leave.

"What's up?"

Darry finished the page he was typing, pulled it off the typewriter, shuffled a few papers into an organized bunch and handed it to Lucky.

"What's this?" Lucky said.

"Papers," Darry said shortly. "Your medical records, proof of identity, etcetera."

Lucky's jaw dropped. "How…just how?" he stammered.

Darry shrugged. "Taking care of Sodapop and Ponyboy when they were growing up, I had to put up with a lot of paperwork. Paperwork for school, for the hospital, for college, for jobs…you get used to it after a while. And you also learn to beat the system when doesn't work," he added pointedly.

Lucky nodded. "Thanks, man," he said. "That's really decent of you."

"Don't mention it," Darry said. "Don't get me wrong, I still think you're stupid, but A.J. deserves every chance she can get."

Lucky gave him a grateful smile and then shut the door behind him.

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"Rajesh Jahaji," the nurse said flatly.

"Yup," Lucky said, keeping his gaze down so she wouldn't see his blue eyes.

"Son, how dumb do you think I am? I know you're that Roger kid who comes by to see Anjali."

Lucky's head shot up. "Oh," he said in a small voice. His heart sank. Darry had been right. He was stupid.

"I'm sorry," he said desperately. "I just…I could be a match for her, you know? And the only reason I can't is because of my rehab record."

"That rule is there for a reason," the nurse said severely.

"Look, please help me out here. There must be some kind of test to prove I'm clean, something to prove I'm eligible. Please."

The nurse was giving him a dumbfounded look. "Kid," she said, and then stopped herself. In a much softer voice, she said, "You really love her, dontcha?"

"Yes," Lucky said firmly.

The nurse picked up the phone. "Let me call Dr. Saunders. I'll appeal to him. To tell you the truth, I think he'll be more amenable to you now that Anjali's getting worse."

Lucky's throat closed. _Worse? She's getting worse? How much worse?_ he wanted to scream, but he stopped himself. He listened, tense, as the nurse spoke with Dr. Saunders.

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Read and review, please.


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